Stranger Cheers
by Sedra
Summary: Bartender Woody Boyd has been telling everyone back home in Indiana about strange happenings at Cheers. Jim Hopper and Eleven make a trip from Hawkins, Indiana, to the Boston bar to investigate the rumors. This is THE Stranger Things/Cheers crossover you have been waiting for.
1. Chapter 1

_Stranger Cheers_

[Author's Note: The long-running American sitcom _Cheers_ is considered by many to be the best television comedy of all time. _Stranger Things_ , as of this posting, is a one-season phenomenon that harkens back to the adventurous films of the early 1980s. Its place in the pantheon of scripted television is yet to be determined. However, one thing is clear… _Cheers_ and _Stranger Things_ were destined to crossover. You're welcome.]

CHAPTER 1

When Jim Hopper first heard the rumors about mysterious happenings in a bar in Boston, he was expecting something a bit shadier. The neighborhood seemed pretty decent, almost touristy. The sign on the street that read _Cheers, est. 1895_ was classy, although the stairs leading down from the street gave the impression of something seedy and secret.

But when Hopper pushed open the door, El's face brightened when she saw the big, bright, open room.

Eleven gasped in the way only she could. It was a sharp intake of breath through the nose, a widening of the eyes, but a mouth trained to remain motionless. "Pretty," she said quietly.

Hopper took in the wood-paneled bar through her eyes and decided it was, indeed, pretty. It was definitely the most well-lit bar he'd ever found himself in. The clientele was a step up from most of the establishments in Hawkins, that was for sure. The light made the rows of glasses hanging from the top of the bar twinkle. He cringed a bit at the kitschy decorations on the wall, but even those held a certain charm in this atmosphere that wouldn't carry over to another drinking hole.

Eleven began to walk to the bar determinedly and Hopper put a jog in his step to keep up as she went down the few steps to the main floor of the bar. He had to remind her later not to do that. Hopper was glad she felt confident enough to stride forward like that, but they still had to keep up appearances. How would it look to strangers to see a teenage girl leading around a grown man?

Hopper reached the bar first and planted himself on a stool at the corner. El seemed so pleased to be there, it was hard to stifle a laugh at the sight of her. She sat on the stool next to him and almost wiggled in anticipation, her eyes glancing around the bar, taking it all in. She looked like a little girl again, like when he'd first met her, not like most teenagers her age who would be practicing rolling their eyes and trying to appear unimpressed.

The way the ladies back home in Hawkins fussed over her these past few years, you'd think they would've packed her something pretty to wear for this trip to the big city. They probably had. Instead, El was wearing an oversized sweatshirt that read Massachusetts Institute of Technology and a Red Sox cap.

The MIT shirt had come from their mission earlier in the day checking out some force field or something or other. He hated that part of the job. But that MIT lab was a center of high electromagnetism, and as such, he and Eleven had been asked to check it out. Nothing bad had happened there, though. Not yet, anyway. Why people couldn't just leave that crap alone, he didn't know. Nothing good would come of it. El had seemed satisfied after getting the grand tour, and that was enough for him. He just prayed they wouldn't get called out there again anytime soon. That would mean trouble.

But regardless of the attire, she radiated a simple beauty. Her hair was long and straight and sleek under her cap, not teased or permed to high heaven like the other girls at school.

Hopper had bought the baseball cap after he saw El admiring one in a kiosk on the sidewalk. He was such a sucker. He'd buy her just about anything to see her smile. Hopper knew how hard El worked. He knew how much she suffered and sacrificed better than anybody. If getting ripped off by a souvenir stand was the price to pay to bring her a little happiness, it was worth it.

He knew this mission couldn't be far from her mind. They never were. But he was happy to see she was able to enjoy being someplace new and different, regardless of that weight on her shoulders.

The work would come later… If what he'd heard about this place was true and not just crazy gossip.

11-11-11-11-11

"Huh, take a look at that," Norm said quietly, elbowing Cliff to get his attention.

Cliff scanned the bar before shrugging in reply. "What's that then, Normie? I don't see anything amiss."

Norm tilted his chin in the direction of the other side of the bar. "That guy. And that girl. She's a little young for him, don't you think? A little young in general, if you know what I mean."

Cliff leaned to his left to try to get a better look before Norm nudged him back into place. "Come on, Cliff, don't be so obvious."

"Maybe that's his kid or something. What do you think, fifteen? Sixteen?"

"I don't know, but she's definitely not eighteen. And if that's his kid, why's he bringing her to a bar at ten o'clock at night on a school night?" Norm asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh," Cliff grunted thoughtfully.

Norm glanced across the bar again to find the man glaring at him.

"Anyone work here?" the man asked gruffly.

Norm looked around. No Sam or Carla in sight.

"There's probably some philosophizing going on in the back," Cliff stated, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm sure they'll be back in a minute."

Norm sighed heavily as he prepared to descend from his stool. "I'll take care of this," he muttered to his friend. Norm began to make his way behind the bar. "What'll it be, mister?" he asked the stranger.

"Now, now, Mr. Peterson, don't get up," Woody called as he entered the bar from the back hallway. He hustled to his place behind the bar. "I'm sorry, Mr. Peterson, I shouldn't have made you do that."

Norm headed back his stool. "I think you've learned a valuable lesson."

"Oh, for sure, Mr. Peterson," Woody replied seriously. "I'll just hold it in next time."

Cliff adjusted the belt of his mail carrier's uniform and cleared his throat. "Nah, nah, that's a bad health decision, buddy. You see, when you ignore these important messages from your body to perform certain, uh, bodily functions, you run the risk of…"

"For chrissakes," the man across the bar muttered, rolling his eyes.

The teenage girl by his side let her eyes dart in his direction before focusing them on Woody. There was an intensity to them, but it wasn't fear or anger. She merely seemed curious, and perhaps concerned.

"I'm sorry you had to wait, mister," Woody said, grabbing an empty glass. "How about the first one's on me?"

"Free beer? What would Sammy, say?" Norm chastised.

Cliff snorted. "Why's it matter to you if he gives the man a beer on the house?"

"Because if anyone deserves a beer on the house, it's me," Norm proclaimed. "He doesn't even know this guy!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Peterson," Woody said, as he began filling the glass from the tap. He carried it carefully to Norm and placed it before him. "Here you go. On the house."

"I forgive you," Norm said, lifting it to his lips.

"Gosh, mister," Woody gasped, slapping his forehead and turning to face the man on the other side of the bar, "now I've made you wait even longer. What were you saying?"

The man clenched his jaw before forcing it to relax. "Wasn't saying anything."

"Oh, right. Your order." Woody licked the tip of a pencil and got his pad of paper ready. "What'll it be, pal? You want what he's having?"

"I don't drink," the man said.

"He doesn't drink, and he's bringing a kid to a bar," Norm said to Cliff with a knowing nod. "Is he about to rob the place? Preach at us?"

"I'm looking for Woody Boyd," the man stated.

Woody's face broke out in a huge grin. "Well, what do you know! _My_ name's Woody Boyd! What a coincidence. I mean, I knew Boston was a big place, but what are the chances."

The man grimaced, laying his hands flat on the bar. The young woman seemed to be holding back a smile, but was watching the man carefully for his reaction.

"From Hanover, Indiana?" the man asked.

"Wow, mister! Are you a mind reader?" Woody asked.

The man looked confused, as if he couldn't tell if Woody was pulling his leg. But then the girl chuckled. The man seemed to relax at the sound and let the corner of his mouth rise in a half-smile.

"I know a relative of yours. Flo. She works for me in Hawkins."

"Aw, shucks! You know my mom's step-cousin-in-law? Wow, Hawkins? Talk about the big city! You must be Chief Hopper! You're famous!" Woody turned to the other side of the bar and called out, "Listen to this, guys, this man right here is a real-life hero, I mean it. He saved that town from aliens!"

"Really?" Norm asked doubtfully. "Didn't think Indiana had border problems."

"No, _aliens_ ," Woody corrected. "Almost wiped the place out! Grabbed people and gobbled them up! Almost burned the whole place down."

"Wow, is this true?" Cliff asked, ready to be convinced.

"The story's been…exaggerated," Hopper said.

Norm sipped his beer before uttering, "I think if there were aliens in, where did you say? Hawkins? We would've heard about it."

"Don't be so sure," Cliff said, leaning against the bar. "The government doesn't want us yokels to know about this sort of thing. There'd be panic and mayhem if we learned there were intelligent species out in the…"

"Can I talk to you?" Hopper interrupted, finally catching Woody's eye. "Without… _them_."

"Hey, anything you say to me, you can say in front of my friends, right, guys?" Woody asked, turning to Norm and Cliff for support. "We don't have secrets here in Cheers."

Hopper leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on the bar. "Alright, well, Flo says you've been having some problems here at Cheers. Disturbances."

"Sure, power surges, lights flickering," Woody replied, waving a hand to the ceiling.

"Faces pushing out of the walls," Cliff added nonchalantly.

Norm nodded. "And the hands… Don't forget the hands."

Woody chuckled. "When I first got here a few weeks ago and started hearing these stories, I just thought maybe either everyone was drinking a bit too much, or this place is haunted. But did you know Cheers was founded in _1895_? That's almost one hundred years ago! Think of all the people who've probably died here!"

"How long has this been going on?" Hopper asked.

"Couple of months, I guess?" Woody looked to the other men for confirmation. Norm and Cliff nodded in response.

"Hey, you know, come to think of it," Norm said, tapping the bar, "it's gotten worse since Woody got here."

Woody's voiced cracked as he laughed nervously. "Come on now, Mr. Peterson. I'm sure that's not true." Woody reached for another glass. "You sure I can't get you anything, Mr. Hopper? I mean, Chief?"

"Sure, a pop. Any kind."

"And for you, honey?" Woody asked the girl.

"Get her a Shirley Temple," Hopper said. He turned to the girl and grinned. "You'll like it," he said to her. "It's right up your alley."

"So, uh, you came all the way to Boston from Hawkins, was it? Indiana?" Norm asked, a suspicious glint in his eye. "To see Woody about a haunted bar? With your, uh…"

"My daughter," Hopper said, accepting the glass. "She's out here visiting schools."

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Woody said. "Boston has some good schools, I heard."

After draining the bright red drink, the young woman tilted her head, as if hearing something no one else could. Her eyes shot to the other side of the bar, past Norm and Cliff, and to the hallway behind them. She slid down from her bar stool.

"Where are you going?" Hopper asked. He looked as though he were prepared to follow her, but changed his mind when he heard her answer.

"Bathroom."

"She gonna be alright?" Norm asked. "I mean, this _is_ a bar… At ten o'clock… On a school night…"

Hopper kept his eye on her as she entered the dark hallway. "She can take care of herself."

"Uh, mister?" Cliff said. "Your _daughter_ just walked into the men's room."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Hopper and Eleven gazed into the last stall of the men's room of Cheers.

"Jesus Christ, El," Hopper said, shaking his head. "How are they living with this thing right here?"

El just shrugged and leaned in closer to investigate. The back wall behind the toilet pulsated and oozed…

Hopper let out a cough and felt the air around him change. This damn cough had been going on for years at this point, he should be used to it by now. But getting this glimpse of the Upside-Down, or whatever version of it this was, made him keenly aware of the particles in his body that he just couldn't shake. He and Joyce had managed to kick the bottle, even if it was a constant struggle. But he hated to admit to himself he clung to his cigarettes in the strange hope they'd smoke that stuff out of his lungs.

El gave him a sympathetic glance, clearly catching his wary expression. "Sorry," she said.

"Don't be. Part of the job. Blessing and a curse, right?" Sometimes he caught a glimpse of the Upside-Down or its weird doppelgangers when the coughing hit him just right. It never ceased to terrify him. But he knew it kept him focused on the importance of what he was doing. Keeping these damn dimensional portals at bay, and the monsters that lay within.

El continued to study him before nodding.

"We'll come back later tonight," he said. "When the bar's closed. Take care of this mess."

She turned to face the horrible sight in the stall again. "It's different."

"What, a different dimension?" They'd witnessed several versions on their investigations, though he couldn't quite suss out why or how or which appeared when.

"Same. But different."

El's hands were fists at her sides. Hopper knew she was itching for a fight.

"Isn't that the Upside-Down in a nutshell?"

"I know there's something in there," she said quietly. "Something bad."

Hopper nodded his agreement. "I don't think you need superpowers to feel that," he said with a gruff laugh.

"But I feel safe, too," she added. "It's strange."

Hopper concentrated on the slimy portal, wondering if he'd be able to sense that same feeling. He supposed maybe he did feel a certain peace and calmness. But maybe that was just the power of suggestion.

11-11-11-11-11

"It was nice to meet you, Woody," Hopper said with a quick salute as he passed the bar on the way back from the bathroom.

"You're heading out? But you didn't finish your pop!" Woody said, disappointed.

Hopper reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet. He laid a crisp twenty dollar bill on the bar by his glass. He continued to walk toward the door.

"Hey, Chief, hold on for your change!" Woody called out.

Norm and Cliff continued watching the exchange with curious looks.

"Keep the change, Woody," Hopper said, ushering the girl out the front door.

"Say hi to Flo for me!" Woody shouted as the door closed behind them.

"Well, that was weird," Norm said, giving his glass a swirl before taking another drink.

Woody shook his head in awe as he palmed the bill. "Twenty bucks for a pop and a Shirley Temple? Chief Hopper seems to be doing pretty well for himself. Come to think of it, those Hawkinites have always been pretty fancy. They're not as humble of folk as us Hanoverians."

"We," Cliff said.

"What's that, Mr. Clavin?" Woody asked.

" _We_ Hanoverians. You see, in this case, _we_ is the subject of the…"

"You're from Hanover, too, Cliff?" Woody interrupted, excited. "Why didn't you ever say anything! Why do you talk so funny then?"

Cliff opened his mouth then turned to Norm. Norm just shook his head.

Woody was already distracted, reaching for the phone under the bar.

"What're you doing there, Woody?" Norm asked.

"Gonna call Flo. Won't she be tickled by all this." Woody began dialing a string of numbers.

Norm snorted. "Holy cow, Woody, you know her number by heart?"

"Well, sure, she's my mom's step-cousin-in-law!"

"Sam's gonna lose it when he sees the long distance bill," Cliff muttered under his breath.

"Hey there, Flo! It's me! Woody! Woody Boyd! From Hanover! But I'm not in Hanover, I'm in Boston. Actually I'm at Cheers. But Cheers is _in_ Boston."

Woody was silent as he listened to the reply on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, Flo, of course I got your care package. I'm just a little backed up on my thank you cards what with all the housewarming gifts since I moved out here! Now listen, Flo, I just got a visit from someone from out your way. Chief Hopper!"

Woody pulled the phone away from his ear as a loud string of curses poured from the receiver. "No, no, Flo, he didn't even have a drink! He was asking about the ghosts and all that. He's visiting with his daughter."

Woody's face fell as he listened to Flo. Slowly, he placed the receiver back on the phone.

"You ok, Woody? You look as though you've seen…a _ghost_ ," Norm said, waving his hands around.

"Oooo!" Cliff howled.

Norm and Cliff chuckled as they brought their beer glasses to their lips.

Before taking a sip, Norm took in Woody's frozen form.

"Hey, Woody, we're just joking around. You ok?" he asked.

Woody shook the dazed look from his eyes. "It's the funniest thing. Flo says Chief Hopper's daughter died years ago."

The smiles they'd been sharing disappeared as Norm and Cliff exchanged wide-eyed glances.

[Author's Note: If you're enjoying this story, reviews are always appreciated! If you're not enjoying the story, sad face. But I do hope it's the former because this has been a lot of fun to write.]


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Later that night, Hopper and El took a few glances around them on the street before they descended the stairs that would take them once again to the entrance of Cheers.

El wore a large jacket over her already bulky sweatshirt that Hopper had hoped would disguise her young features. But they really only accentuated them. She looked like a kid playing dress-up.

Back home in Hawkins, everyone was used to her just the way she was. Even if most people didn't quite understand what Eleven was or where she came from, everyone knew she was responsible for ending the terror in their town. For some people, that meant giving El a wide berth when she came down the street, but always with a friendly wave or respectful nod of the head. For other people, especially those who had lost someone they'd cared about, she was sacred. And they would all protect her and her secret for the sake of the town and for their own lives.

As Hopper watched El gracefully unlock the door of Cheers using only her mind, he once again considered if he was doing right by her. She had the abilities, she had the desire to help and save others. But wasn't she still too young? Shouldn't she have the opportunity to seek another life? He knew if he asked her, she'd say no. As far as El knew, she was the only person capable of doing what she could do. So Hopper helped her out as much as he could.

El gave him a devilish smile as the door opened for them. As she had honed her powers over the years, she had become more comfortable with them. A trick like this was nothing for her now, but it warmed his heart to see her relish her special abilities every once in a while instead of suffering from them. He'd seen enough of that in her to last a lifetime.

Hopper smiled in return before putting his finger to his lips to remind her they might not be alone.

El nodded and entered first. His initial impulse was always to push her aside and sweep the area before allowing her to enter. But he'd had to get over that a while back. More than once, Hopper had been knocked to his ass within seconds and El had to use extra energy to fight while also protecting him. Might as well let her get an eye on things and give him an ok before he put himself in danger.

"She can take care of herself," he'd said earlier in this same room. In many ways it was true. But for something like this, he did have a purpose. She might have those powers, but she was too naïve and had been too sheltered to have developed his detection abilities. She was learning to get a read on people, pick up on cues, and piece things together, but it would be awhile before he'd let her take on a mission alone. If ever. Maybe if Mike got his act together and spent more time studying and working out and less time being a nerd in his basement, he could get on track to help her, too, someday.

"All clear," she shouted from inside.

Hopper nearly jumped out of his skin at her loud pronouncement.

"Jesus Christ, El," he whispered as he walked into the room, weapon and flashlight sweeping the dark corners, just in case. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep it down when we're breaking and entering?"

"But I said, 'all clear,'" she said, infinitely patient. "There's no one here, so why do we need to whisper? And why is it called breaking and entering if I didn't break anything?"

El didn't wait for an answer but continued taking in the room. She might not have had a weapon in her hands, but the way her head tilted and eyes darted, Hopper knew she was ready for anything.

"Bathroom," El said in an exaggerated whisper. He couldn't tell if she was teasing him or if that was really what she considered a proper volume in this situation. She was getting better at taking jokes, but doling them out was pretty hit-or-miss with her. There was nothing like the contented smile on her face when she finally landed one, though. She could usually tell if you were just humoring her.

Hopper followed her to the bathroom, a sense of dread intensifying as they approached the portal. When they had visited Cheers earlier in the evening, he was sure he would've sniffed it out immediately if the room had been empty like it was right now. When it was full of people laughing, talking, drinking, smoking and just living life, it was hard to concentrate. Maybe that's how this thing managed to survive here. Even if the people here were suspicious, it didn't seem like they were too worried about it.

Again, Hopper let El enter the bathroom first and waited for her to call the all clear. It took a bit longer than he would've liked, and he shoved the fear down as far as it would go. This was El. She could handle it.

A few more seconds ticked by, and Hopper almost called out to her. It was a small room, what was taking her so long?

Already tense, he jumped yet again as he heard the jingle of a key chain coming from outside of the door of the bar.

"Dammit," Hopper muttered. Immediately, he remembered that although El had unlocked the door, they had not relocked it behind them.

"El," Hopper whispered, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. As concerned as he was by her lack of reply, he didn't sense trouble coming from her direction. He had learned to listen to these instincts, but it was still hard not to listen to his brain right now.

He heard a key in the lock and his stomach lurched when the person realized the door was already unlocked.

"What the hell?" a man groaned as he opened the door. "Dammit, Woody," the man cursed to himself.

Hopper couldn't wait by the bathroom door without escaping notice. He ducked behind the nearby wall of a back room where he still had his eye on the rest of the bar and the men's room door.

"Hopper!" El hissed from the bathroom. At the same moment, the lights in the previously dark bar began to flicker.

He could tell by the sound of her voice that she wasn't scared, but she needed help.

"What the hell?" the man in the bar said more loudly. "Ya gotta be kidding me. I'm gonna _sue_ that damn electrician. Damn lousy historic building…"

Hopper leapt from his hiding place, not even caring what the man in the bar might have heard or what he might think about the lights. He just hoped that man didn't come back here with a gun and screw everything up.

Hopper pushed open the door to the men's room, weapon at the ready.

"I need help," El said simply from the last stall. The yellow fluorescent light flashed eerily as he took the few steps to enter it.

El stood by the gaping portal, waiting. "Let's go," she said, as she began to step through it.

"Woah, woah, wait. There's someone here. Someone from the bar," Hopper said, reaching out to stop her.

"Then I'll hurry. You wait here. There's someone in there. I need to get him."

Hopper tucked his flashlight into his pocket, his other hand still gripping his weapon. On instinct, Hopper patted his other pocket and felt the familiar pouch that he'd need to access any moment in this sort of situation. "Someone?" he asked "A person? Or _someone,_ like a monster."

"One of each," she said with a shrug.

11-11-11-11-11

Sam Malone was a big guy. And he'd been alone around Cheers and this neighborhood at this time of night plenty of times over the years. There wasn't much that spooked him. Finding the door to his bar unlocked was irritating, but he didn't consider it more than a careless mistake until he heard voices coming from the back hall. That and the damn flickering lights were enough to make him want to turn tail and get the hell out of there.

But it was his bar, dammit. And if someone was messing around back there, Sam was gonna put an end to it. He considered calling the cops, but the phones had been driving him just as nuts as the lights lately. He wasn't about to get zapped on the ear again.

Sam crept to the bar and reached under it for his trusty baseball bat. He smacked his other hand with it a few times to really get his blood going. What the hell was he thinking?

"Here goes nothin'," he muttered to himself, releasing a long breath. Well, at least he'd leave behind a good-looking corpse, he thought.

11-11-11-11-11

Eleven entered the portal and stood there a moment to get her bearings. It was chilly, damp, and drippy. Just once she wanted to experience the unicorns and rainbows dimension. Like something from her Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper. If you could imagine it, it had to be out there somewhere, right?

El steadied her breath and focused on her senses.

"Well, hey there, sweetheart," she heard a hoarse voice whisper. "You lost, too?"

El turned around trying to find where the voice was coming from. She finally came across an old man, sitting tiredly, his back bowed. He offered her a weak, but warm, smile.

El just nodded, not sure what she was seeing.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to frighten you, honey, but you should just turn right back around and head out of here, ok?"

"Why?" she asked quietly.

The man looked around him and gestured to the slimy walls and filth floating in the air. "This is no place for a sweet girl like you. You better leave before he finds you. I'm not sure I can trick him much longer. I won't be able to protect you."

El took in his frail frame, his gaunt face.

"Come with me," she said, stepping toward him and offering her hand.

The man shook his head, still smiling. "You're a good kid. I can tell. But I can't leave. I'm the only thing keeping that monster from getting out of here and out into Cheers. I've been outsmarting it for weeks. Maybe months. I don't really know. But, well…" He shrugged. "I'm not doing so good now. So, just get out of here."

El couldn't believe what she was hearing. Tears rose in her eyes imagining this man standing between a monster and the lively world of Cheers.

The man doubled over as his body was racked with coughs. El knew the sound well. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he would stop. But she knew from experience it wouldn't be long until…

She knelt before him and placed her hands on either side of his face. El felt hot tears rising in her eyes as his coughing turned to a dull wheeze.

"Your work is done," she said softly, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. "I'll take over from here. Now you can rest."

He nodded, his eyes drooping from exertion. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible.

"Don't be. You saved so many people before I got here. And I'm going to stop this monster once and for all. So that they can _stay_ safe."

The man smiled with relief and she felt his body relax.

Knowing he didn't have the energy left to stand, let alone walk, El stepped behind him and wrapped her arms under his. He was skin and bones, but it was still a struggle for her to pull him toward the entrance of the portal. El was glad he'd been keeping an eye on it because she wasn't sure she could have dragged him much further.

El chastised herself for skipping out on several workouts lately to hang out with the guys. All of them needed to start taking this more seriously.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Sam stood outside of the door to the men's room of Cheers. The perfectly-coiffed hair on the back of his neck was standing on end, and his hands were shaking so hard, the baseball bat he was holding at attention was quivering.

"Alright, Mayday," he whispered, trying to pump himself up. "It's just a couple of kids in there messing around. If they were really up to no good, they'd be in the office looking for the safe."

One more deep breath, and he kicked the door open with a shout, hoping to scare the hell out of them at least.

The lights were going nuts at this point, and it took him a while for his eyes to even make out what was going on.

A man was facing Sam, not looking at all surprised to see him. There was a weapon in his hand, but it was held loosely at his side.

"Hi," the man said. He was glancing toward the last stall, but seemed completely at ease otherwise.

Sam was caught off guard by the man's casual reaction to being found in the men's room of a bar in the middle of the night with the lights flashing like crazy.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam asked, getting into a batting stance, knowing it must look more ridiculous than intimidating in this situation.

"I'm here checking out a complaint," the man said, flashing a badge.

With the lights tricking Sam's eyes, it was hard to determine just what that badge meant, but Sam swore he saw…

"Indiana?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"This complaint was outsourced," the man said. He turned to the last stall abruptly and added a terse, "Chief Jim Hopper. Nice to meet you."

"Uh, likewise," Sam said. "Sam Malone. I own this bar, and you're trespassing." But Sam couldn't take his eyes off the last stall at this point, either. What was this guy doing?

"You need to get out of here," Hopper said, raising the weapon and moving closer to the last stall.

"Wait, what? Why?"

Before the man could respond, Sam heard a voice emerge from the last stall. He could've sworn it was empty.

Sam leaned closer and saw that the mold growth in the last stall had gone wild. That stall had always been a bit foul, but most people either just avoided it or were too drunk to care. Sam hadn't even looked in that one in years. Carla had refused to clean it a while back, and Coach had taken over, bless his heart.

Just as he thought of his old friend and felt the familiar pang of loss at his death, he saw a young woman dragging that same man out of that filthy patch in the wall and into the bathroom.

"Holy…," Sam breathed. He dropped the bat with a clatter and took Coach gently from the woman's arms.

"Coach? Oh my god, is that you?" Sam asked. It had to be him. Except so frail and weak. And covered in a strange, earthy grime.

Coach opened his eyes. "Sammy? Is that you? You ok?"

"Am _I_ ok? Dammit, Coach, what the hell happened to you?"

He was interrupted by the girl as she seemed to catch her breath.

"He saved you," she said to Sam. "He saved this bar and everyone in it with his wits. He's a hero."

Sam looked down at Coach who was staring up at him. Coach had a grin on his face that didn't seem to make a lick of sense considering the circumstances.

"You hear that, Sam? Me, a hero. And wits? Isn't she a doll?"

Sam didn't know what to think. He'd been to Coach's funeral. Spoken to his grieving daughter. Sure, Coach's death had seemed sudden, and Sam had never really learned the details, but Coach was _gone_.

"Welcome back, Coach," was about all Sam could muster as his eyes teared up.

"I'm going back in, Hopper," the girl said. "I have to finish this."

"What's the plan, El?" Hopper asked, fingering his weapon.

"Be ready," she said simply before dashing back into the stall.

Sam didn't know which was more confusing… Holding a man he thought had died months ago or watching this odd cop and his… What was she, his boss?

"Ok, now you really need to leave," Hopper said sternly. "Get him as far away from here as possible."

"Look at him! He needs medical attention. I don't even think I should move him," Sam said. "Can't you call 911? Call your buddies or something?"

Hopper looked agitated as he glanced down furtively at Coach. He gritted his teeth before turning his attention to the stall, his weapon at the ready.

Before Sam could try again, he heard the most miserable noise he could ever imagine. It was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. It was like nails being dragged against the bottom of his brain. His hands rose to his temples, trying to squeeze it out.

Soon after, the girl was back, running so fast she slammed into the other wall of the bathroom.

Hopper aimed his weapon and Sam let out a startled shriek when he realized Hopper was aiming at El, not at whatever had been chasing her. If Sam hadn't been cradling Coach's head in his lap, he would've shoved Hopper right into that stall to protect her.

"Now!" she shouted as a tall man came rushing out of the same space. But not a man. It was a faceless creature, long arms and legs, releasing that same godawful noise. A couple of the fluorescent bulbs popped above them, but El and Hopper were too focused to notice.

Whatever Hopper had been holding wasn't a gun. Not any kind of gun Sam had ever seen or heard of. It had a strange, short barrel with a funnel-shaped tip. As Hopper pulled the trigger, El was bathed in a glowing, crackling light.

She stood inside of it, fists clenched at her sides. Her whole body was tense and a guttural roar grew from deep in her belly, emerging with a volume that competed with the monster's.

With barely a flick of the wrist or a wrinkle of her nose, the light surrounding her shot out at the creature.

Sam, Coach, and Hopper threw their arms over their eyes instinctively as the brightness became unbearable. The deafening wail vanished and Sam realized the monster had been destroyed.

When Sam opened his eyes, the monster was gone, nothing but a few particles left floating in the air.

Hopper caught El as she fell. He reached into a pocket, removed a hypodermic needle, and plunged it deep into her thigh. She fell completely still and Hopper held her to his chest as he lowered himself to the floor.

Sam's eyes were about as wide open as his mouth. He couldn't understand half of what he'd seen. Was he hallucinating? Was this whole night a very bad dream? He shouldn't have had that Chinese food for dinner.

Coach began coughing, his whole body shaking.

"I'm gonna get some help," Sam said, preparing to get up. He hated the thought of leaving Coach on the bathroom floor, but he didn't have much choice. Clearly this Hopper guy had his own hands full.

"Sam, don't," Coach sputtered, patting Sam's arm. "I'm worn out, kid." He gave Sam a sad smile. "But knowing that thing is gone and that Cheers is safe is everything I could've wished for. I just wanted you all to be happy, Sam. I didn't want you to ever know something like that was out there."

Sam felt Hopper's eyes on him and looked up.

Hopper's brow was furrowed, and his lips were in a tight line. Sam couldn't help but wonder what the man had seen. Hopper had seemed so nonplussed by the events so far, but it seemed hearing Coach's words and holding El's resting body were making it all catch up to him.

"You did good, Coach. Real good," Sam said, hugging Coach carefully.

"Thanks, Sammy," Coach said. "Don't worry about me."

The coughs built up again until Coach fell limp in Sam's arms.

11-11-11-11-11

Sam was too shocked to do much more than rock Coach's body gently. Coach was gone…again. What in the world was Sam supposed to do now?

"El was right," Hopper said, startling Sam. "He's a hero. If he's been keeping that thing from reaching you, that's downright incredible. It's not often someone gets out of a place like that, let alone survives in there for any amount of time."

"You know a lot about it? Just thought it was mold. Coach has been living in the walls with that thing?" Sam asked.

Hopper glanced back at the stall. Sam followed his gaze and realized the wet, sticky mess was gone and only plain old mold was left behind.

"Something like that," Hopper offered. "Sorry about your friend. He must've been a good guy."

"The best."

"He's right, you know. None of you should have to know about this stuff. We were in the bar earlier. Seems like a great place. Pretty much the opposite of what we usually find in places like _that_ ," Hopper said, waving a hand toward the stall.

Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know much more. He got the impression Hopper didn't want to share much more than that anyway.

"Your friend seems pretty special, too," Sam said.

Hopper closed his eyes and shook his head sharply. "Yeah," he replied, his voice cracking.

Hopper opened his eyes again and let out a controlled breath. "There a place I can lie her down?" Hopper asked, gesturing to El with a nod of his head.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Hopper laid El down on the leather couch in the office of Cheers. He checked her vitals and breathed a sigh of relief that everything seemed normal. Normal for El after a dose of that stuff following an energy boost. Their lives were anything but normal.

Hopper watched as Sam laid Coach down on the floor. Sam crossed Coach's arms over his chest and knelt by his side helplessly.

"I gotta call in my team. They'll take care of this," Hopper said, stepping toward the desk. "Mind if I make a long distance call?"

Sam laughed. "Sure, go ahead."

Hopper placed the receiver between his chin and shoulder and began to dial with one hand. With his other hand, he removed his wallet and took out a pristine twenty dollar bill. He placed it on the desk as he waited for someone to pick up.

"Come on, twenty bucks?" Sam scoffed. "You just saved my bar, you can keep your twenty bucks."

Hopper didn't have time to negotiate as someone answered the phone on the other end.

"It's done. Need a sweep and a pick-up," Hopper said simply before hanging up.

"That's it?" Sam asked.

"That's it. Now we just wait." Hopper didn't want to step on the guy's toes, but he'd just about had it for the night. Hopper let himself fall into the office chair and reached into his shirt pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He placed one in his mouth and began patting his pockets for his lighter. His hand felt the shape of the pouch that held various vials for El and other situations and stopped. He looked at her sleeping and felt that guilt again. How much longer could she keep doing this? How much longer could he let her?

Hopper sighed. "Got a light?" he asked Sam.

Sam was sitting on the floor next to his friend, his arms draped over his knees. He shook his head. "I don't smoke," he told him.

Hopper laughed and he felt a cough coming on. He tried to suppress it, but that always made it worse. Finally, he let it out. It wasn't too bad, but it was just enough to bring on the visions. The flash of another world lying on top of their own. The cough dissipated and the veil fell once again to his relief.

Sam was giving him a look of concern. This man had just watched his friend die after a coughing fit. Of course he was going to get ideas.

"How about a drink, though," Sam offered, rising to his feet. "On the house," he added with a smile.

"Had to quit," Hopper replied.

"Yeah? Me, too. But if there's ever been an occasion to fall off the wagon for one night…," Sam said, his eyes flashing toward Coach.

Hopper leaned back in the office chair and propped his feet up on the desk. He decided he liked this guy.

"Well, no one likes a quitter, right, Sam?" Hopper said.

"That's right, Chief."

Sam left the office and Hopper breathed a sigh of relief. He patted the pouch again.

Soon, Sam returned with two glasses.

"My best scotch," he said, offering one to Hopper.

Hopper put the unlit cigarette back in its pack and took the drink. He lifted it in a salute.

"To Coach," Sam said, lifting his own glass. "And El," he added, raising it again in her direction. "May we never, ever see anything like this ever again."

"I'll drink to that," Hopper said. He lifted the glass to his lips and tried his best to pretend to take a sip. It smelled damn good, and he was tempted to just throw it back. Didn't he deserve it after all this? But he thought of Joyce and Jonathan and Will and El and just let the liquid barely reach his lips. It wasn't worth it.

Sam looked at his own glass like he was having the same struggle. But he finally tipped his head back and let it fall down his throat. He grimaced afterward, possibly ashamed. Sam rested the half-empty glass on the desk and shoved his hands in his pockets, taking another look at Coach by his feet.

Hopper stood and made his way to the other side of the desk. "Take a seat, Sam. I'm going to take a look at Coach."

Sam just nodded and sat.

Hopper bent over Coach, not sure what he was supposed to look for or how else he could distract Sam.

"Can you get me a paper towel?" Hopper asked, eyeing the store room in the back of the office.

"Oh, sure thing," Sam said. He jumped out of his seat, eager to help.

Quickly, Hopper reached into the pouch in his pocket and removed a vial. He unscrewed the cap and tipped a few drops into Sam's glass.

Sam returned with a roll of paper towels. Hopper thanked him and began wiping down Coach's hair and face gently.

When he was done, Hopper stood and took his glass. He handed Sam's back to him.

"Cheers," Hopper said, holding his glass out for Sam.

Dutifully, Sam clinked his glass against Hopper's and finished off the scotch.

It never took long to see the effects.

"Sorry," Hopper said, as Sam's eyes glazed over and his head hit the desk.

11-11-11-11-11

Hopper waited in silence, keenly aware of the one dead man and two unconscious people lying around him. He concentrated on what they had accomplished tonight and what awaited him back home in Hawkins. He could only handle all this if he took things one mission at a time. If he started to consider the bigger picture of the mess he was in, he'd lose his mind for sure.

He thought of Joyce's warm smile that greeted him whenever he walked into their home after one of these out-of-town trips. Was there any other woman who would put up with this? It felt good to be missed. It felt good to return to a home and a family after a night like this. It hadn't been that long ago that he would have pushed someone like Joyce away, knowing no one could understand what he was going through. Knowing he didn't want to drag them into the darkness with him. But she did understand.

After what felt like an eternity, he saw El stir. He knelt by her side and took her hand.

"We're still at the bar. Do you remember what happened?" he asked her.

"We got it," she whispered.

Hopper nodded. "That's right."

El rolled onto her side and sat up slowly. Her eyes fell on Coach's still form on the ground and her face wrinkled in a silent scream.

Hopper sat next to her and took her in his arms, cradling her face on his shoulder. "I know, El. I know."

She just shook her head, sobbing. "It's not fair," she said.

"I know, honey," he responded. He usually didn't use pet names with her. It seemed patronizing now that she was older. And it brought up too many painful memories of his little girl. But he needed to remind her that she was so much more than some kind of business colleague. She was family. He couldn't let her forget that.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes before sitting back. "And that guy?" she asked, looking at Sam.

"Sam's the owner of the bar. Had to use one of the knock-outs. He'll wake up with a splitting headache and won't remember a thing from tonight." Hopper knew from experience that Sam would also be cursing the fact that he'd given in to the siren's song of the drink again. Hopper wished he could've thought of a better way to fix this than to convince a recovering alcoholic to have just one more… Seemed particularly sleazy.

"They're here," El said, waving a hand to the door.

Hopper nodded in agreement, although he couldn't hear anything yet. El could sense things like that.

"I'll tell them to gas up the plane so we can just head home," Hopper said. He stood and headed to the door, prepared to meet up with the response crew.

"What? No!" El pleaded.

"Come on, El. You need to recover. At home."

"But you promised, Hopper. You said we'd get to do something fun this time. We're finally in a big city again instead of the middle of nowhere. Every other town we go to looks just like Hawkins."

Hopper laughed. "Something fun? Like what, a walking tour of historic downtown Boston?"

"Or a Red Sox game?" El asked hopefully.

"Sorry, kid, it's not baseball season."

"And you said if we had time, we'd visit Jonathan."

Hopper sighed as he considered the logistics of getting them to NYU to visit Jonathan at school. He knew Jonathan would be thrilled to see them. Well, as thrilled as Jonathan could manage to get. And Joyce would be happy to hear it, if not a bit jealous that he'd had a chance to see her son without her.

There was a knock on the door and Hopper opened it.

"Sir, you requested a sweep and a pick-up?" the man asked.

"Full sweep of the premises, particularly the men's room," Hopper stated.

"The men's room, sir?" the man repeated warily.

"You heard me. As for the pick-up…" Hopper stepped to the side and gestured to Coach's body. "Take good care of him. If I hear there was even a bump to his toe as you got him out of here, you'll have to answer to both of us," he said, pointing toward El. "You'll get the rest in my report."

"Yes, sir," the man gulped. "And that other man?" he asked, gesturing to Sam.

"Taken care of. Don't go anywhere near him. And wipe that last phone call from the log. Don't need him taking too close of a look at the long distance bill."

"Yes, sir. Sweep and a pick-up. And a wipe. And transport?"

Hopper looked toward El who was pleading with him with her eyes.

"No transport. We're taking some vacation days."

"Security?" the man offered.

"We're off the grid for the rest of this trip, understand? If I see even a hint of one of you guys lurking in a dark corner…"

The man cleared his throat nervously and tried to avoid El's eyes. "Yes, sir. Understood, sir."

Hopper smiled and patted him on the back. "And no touching the merchandise," he said, wagging a finger in the man's face before pointing at the bar behind him. "Got it?"

"Yes, sir. Definitely, sir."

"Alright, Skinner. Get to work. Tell the team I want a full report when I get back."

"Yes, sir."

Skinner turned to leave the office to gather up his crew.

"He's scared of me," El said sadly.

Although Hopper thought it came in handy if his team had a healthy respect for her abilities, he didn't think fear was the best way to keep their loyalty. "I'll talk to him," he said.

El nodded and stood.

Hopper escorted her out of the office and turned one last time before exiting to bid Coach and Sam a silent goodbye. It wouldn't be long before Cheers would be open for business as usual. People would be laughing. Norm and Cliff would be bantering. And that guy Woody would be slinging drinks as if nothing had ever happened.

And that's the way Cheers should be.

FIN, Y'ALL

[Author's Note: Shout-out as always to beta reader queen, Arcole. Thanks for going on all these crazy adventures with me. As for this story, these Stranger Things crossovers write themselves. Go for it. If you write a Stranger Things/Facts of Life crossover, be sure to let me know.]


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